


buried alive with not a foot in the dirt

by anotherdirtycomputer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Autistic Draco Malfoy, Gen, Hypersensitivity, Neurodiversity, Sensory Overload, Trans Draco Malfoy, adhd draco malfoy, also technically either adhd or autistic narcissa as well lmao nice, either way he has... drum roll..., implied adhd/autistic sirius black, its hella short my bad yall, its not mentioned but my draco is always trans, neurodivergent headcanon, nev and scorp or just mentioned, scorpius malfoy has two daddies, stepdad neville longbottom, this is vent fic you caught me, vent fic, who can say? its your pick my friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 03:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherdirtycomputer/pseuds/anotherdirtycomputer
Summary: Draco deals with sensory overload while his boys are out of the house.





	buried alive with not a foot in the dirt

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this to avoid thinking about the fact that i was experiencing Everything At Once, like... fifteen minutes ago, so its hella rough, and probably made even more rough by the fact that i could literally feel all of my joints rubbing together and creaking and squeaking and YUCK, if you're reading this because you feel a similar affliction, damn bitch, we in this, you're valid.
> 
> anyways ajkldf as youve likely guessed by now, this is a vent fic, PLUS its draco malfoy pov, so its a bit dramatic, so ... ajksld take that with a grain of salt. i live to complain, for sure, hence why draco pov is so very fun to write! i absolutely invite anyone else to give it a go - its worth it
> 
> i might hate this when its not 4 am but ah well! such is the fate of 4 am vent drabbles :p <3 regardless... enjoy!

It was rather rare now for Draco to get this... _this_....

Well, he wasn't even sure what it was called - or if it had a name at all. It was old, though, and Mother swore he'd gotten it from her line, from the Blacks. It was an affliction he'd gotten through her blood, and how apt, too; he felt every pulse of it through his veins, and he felt all of those, too. Luckily, Mother always knew how to take care of him when it dug its nasty claws into him and _screamed_. 

She wasn't here to help him manage it now, though; not to cast sound-muffling charms or give him any manner of numbing tonic. It was just him, alone, miserably wallowing in his bed as the world became bigger and smaller and generally just  _so much worse_  all around him.

It happened quite a lot to him as a child, he realized, trying to ignore how irritated and scared he was in the present. It happened so much so that now, even rare as it was, it was a simple nuisance; not anything to get in too much of a tizzy about, much as he loved to, no - it was just another shitty thing to add to his repertoire of Things That Happened Today That Were Absolute Rubbish. Sure, he wanted to tear out his own eyes in classic, over-the-top, theatrical fashion, but, he thought petulantly, and a bit childishly, when did he not?

Draco laid down in the quiet room, unable even to spell the bedroom clock quiet, even as it stung every inch of his skin with every tick, for fear of hearing his joints creak as he moved, feel the tendons in his arms shift and shake and stretch.

Draco laid down in the quiet room, and wanted to fucking die.

At least, he supposed, Neville and Scorpius were out and about, and not home to make ever more noise. As much as he adored them, he wasn't sure he could handle that after the absolute nonsense that was _this_ \- this strange and sudden over-realization of every moment and every action and every molecule around him and within him.

Yes, luckily for Draco the two were out shopping for some odd plant Neville had gotten them excited about, some rare breed of whatever else, Draco was in too much not-quite-pain to remember. Whatever it was, it got them out of the house and even when they returned, they'd be too busy out in the garden to make a ruckus.

He hoped.

He loved them so dearly and so desperately... Just, at the moment, he'd prefer to love them from a distance. A quiet, still, lonely distance.

Draco pulled the covers up over himself, cringing at the feeling of it over his skin, the sound of it slicing the air, crinkling crinkling crinkling, and wished and wished for a sleeping potion to suddenly appear.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are a writer's best friends!


End file.
